CHAPTER 139

**ZION**

The second I step through the front door, my mom’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“Zion?” Jenny’s tone is sharp with surprise as she steps into the hallway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her brows pull together the second she sees me.

I barely glance at her, my mind racing. “Not now, Mom.”

That’s not good enough for her. Her expression hardens, frustration creeping into her voice. 

“Oh, I don’t think so. A few minutes ago, Winter walked in, didn’t say a damn word to me, and locked herself in her room. And now you show up looking like you’re ready to start a fight?” She folds her arms, eyes searching my face. 

“What the hell is going on with you two?”

There’s a flicker of concern beneath her frustration, but I don’t stop. I don’t have time for this.

“I said not now.”

I push past her, heading straight for Winter’s room, leaving my mom standing there, her frustration turning into something closer to worry.

When I reach Winter’s door, I don’t hesitate—I twist the handle.

Locked.

I slam my fist against the door, the sound of a sharp crack that echoes down the hallway.

“Snowflake. Open the fucking door.”

Silence. 

A long, suffocating pause.

"SNOWFLAKE!"

“Go away!”

Like hell, I will.

I hit the door harder this time, my patience hanging by a thread. 

“Open the damn door.”

“Just leave me alone!” Her voice cracks, but there’s a fire in it. 

“You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Her voice shakes with fury, 

“You got your revenge. You had fun. What the hell else do you want from me?”

I clench my jaw. “We need to talk, Snowflake.” 

A sharp, bitter laugh erupts from behind the door, cutting through the thick silence like a blade.

“Talk? You think I want to hear anything you have to say?” Her voice rises, filled with venom. 

“Go to hell, Zion Royal. And do me a favour—stay the hell away from me.”

Then, her voice again, shaking but cruel. "I told you—you mean nothing to me. And I meant it."

My jaw tightens as I press my forehead against the door, my breaths coming hard and fast.

“Snowflake,” I say, my voice low, controlled—but barely. 

“I’m not going anywhere until we talk.”

Silence.

My fingers curl into fists. “Fine.” My voice drops, edged with frustration. 

“If that’s the way you want it—”

I step back, bracing myself. If she won’t open the damn door, I will.

I don’t think. 

I act. 

Stepping back, I ram my shoulder against the door. Once. Twice. The third time, it bursts open, slamming against the wall.

Winter jumps from where she’s curled up on the bed, eyes wide with shock, her tear-streaked face making something inside me snap.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shouts, scrambling up, clutching a pillow against her chest like it’s some kind of shield.

I take a step inside, breathing heavily. “You locked the door.”

“Yeah, because I didn’t want to see you.”

My fists tighten at my sides. “We need to talk.”

Winter shakes her head, “There’s nothing left to say, Zion.”

“Like hell, there isn’t.” I step forward, and she instinctively pulls the pillow closer, like she’s trying to shield herself from me. 

It pisses me off.

“You have no idea, do you?”

Her brows knit together, confusion flickering across her face. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

I exhale sharply, running a hand through my hair, my pulse hammering. 

"I did what I had to, Snowflake. What I felt was right." My voice drops lower, my eyes locked onto hers, unrelenting. 

"Because you deserved it."

She stiffens, her breath hitching, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

"You deserved the hurt."

Winter’s scream shatters the air. "Get out!"

But this time, she doesn’t just stand there—she lunges at me, shoving me with everything she has. Her hands slam against my chest, small but shaking with unrestrained fury.

"Nothing I did justifies what you did to me!" Her voice wavers, but the fire in her eyes doesn’t. 

"I was vulnerable, Zion! And you—" her voice cracks, raw with rage and something deeper, something shattered—"you took advantage of that. You sick bastard!"

She shoves me again, harder, her whole body trembling. 

"Get out. The sight of you makes me sick. You’ve already ruined my life, Zion! You don’t get to take over my space too. Get. The hell. Out!"

She shoves me again, harder this time, her palms pressing against my chest, but I barely move. 

“Leave!” she shrieks, her breath ragged, her hands shaking as she pushes at me like she can physically force me out.

I catch her wrists mid-swing, gripping them tight. 

“Enough,” I say, my voice low, firm.

She thrashes for a second, trying to yank free, her breath coming fast and uneven. But I don’t let go. I don’t back down.

“Enough Snowflake!”

I exhale sharply as I try to rein in the storm brewing inside me. 

“My cousins, my friends—hell, even the people I’d take a bullet for—they all think I’ve wronged you.” My voice is tight, edged with bitterness. 

“You should’ve seen their faces. Disappointed. Pissed. Like I’m some heartless bastard, the villain in your tragic little story.”

She struggles against my grip, her wrists still caught in my hands, but I don’t let go. 

I step closer, my hold firm but not hurting, my gaze locked onto hers. 

“But you and I both know the truth. We both know why I did it.”

Winter’s breath hitches, her brows furrowing as confusion flashes across her face, quick and uncertain, like a candle flickering in a storm. 

“No.” Her voice is low, edged with frustration, but there’s a waver underneath, something raw. She jerks against my hold, her glare burning into me. 

“I don’t! I don’t know what I did, Zion. But I know there is nothing—nothing—I could have done to make you treat me like this.” Her voice trembles, not with fear, but with barely restrained anger. 

“You bullied me. Humiliated me. Tore me down the second I stepped into this city.” She lets out a bitter, shaky laugh, her teeth gritted. 

“So tell me, what the hell did I do to deserve such wrath?”

“I begged you, Snowflake.” My words are cold, cutting. 

“I begged you not to say a word. But you did. You didn’t even hesitate. And you destroyed my life.”

She just looks lost. Like she doesn’t even remember what she did to me.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

My voice drops lower, almost a growl

I watch her closely, my grip tightening just enough to keep her from pulling away.

"The day before my mom’s birthday.... We were playing hide and seek." My voice comes out low and controlled, but there’s an edge to it—a sharpness that’s been building for years. I keep my eyes locked on hers, waiting, pushing. "You remember now, don’t you?"

At first, she just stares at me, her brows pulling together like she doesn’t have a damn clue what I’m talking about. Her lips part, and for a second, I think she’s going to deny it, pretend like she doesn’t know.

But then I see it.

Her breath catches. Her face goes pale.

She knows.

And that’s all the confirmation I need.

**WINTER’S POV (FLASHBACK)**

“Why the hell am I even here?” Jude grumbles from the passenger seat, arms crossed like a petulant child.

“Jude, language,” Dad warns, shooting him a sharp look.

I tune out their bickering, already reaching for the car door. The second I step out, a grin spreads across my face.

Zion is already waiting on the porch, hands stuffed into his pockets, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. Even at twelve, he’s taller than most boys his age, broad-shouldered and carrying himself with an effortless confidence that makes it impossible to ignore him. And handsome—frustratingly, annoyingly handsome.

I shook the thought away. No, stop it, Winter. He’s your best friend. And besides, he probably likes Clara.

Jude let out an exaggerated sigh beside me, shoving the passenger door open before slamming it shut. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, his irritation practically radiating off him.

“I had other plans.”

Dad barely spared him a glance as he shut off the engine. “Well, they’re cancelled. You’re staying here and looking after your sister.”

Jude scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Please. I take better care of her than you ever did.”

Dad’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait, simply exhaling sharply as he stepped out of the car and turned towards Jenny, who was already checking her phone.

Jenny sighed, glancing at William. "I can’t believe they scheduled this meeting today of all days."

William checked his watch, frowning. "I can handle it alone if you want to stay Mrs Royal—"

Jenny let out a sigh, shaking her head. "No, I need to be there." She turned to Zion, her expression softening. "I’ll be back before you know it, I promise."

Zion scoffed beside me, arms crossing over his chest. "Can’t you just take a day off for once? It’s your birthday tomorrow—you said we’d decorate the house together." His gaze flickered toward my dad, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, there and gone in an instant.

Jenny hesitated, but only for a second before offering a small, apologetic smile. "I wish I could, baby, but I can’t."

She reached out, brushing a hand through Zion’s hair before fixing him with a knowing look. "And behave while I’m gone. No teasing Winter. If you need anything, Zion, your dad’s in his office—just ask him, okay?"

Zion scoffed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "We’ll be fine."

Jenny gave him a pointed look. "I mean it, troublemaker."

Then, she reached for me, pulling me into a quick hug. "You too, sweetheart. Try to keep him out of trouble, okay?"

I grinned. "I’ll do my best."

Jenny and Dad exchanged one last glance before heading toward the car. As soon as they disappeared down the driveway, Jude wasted no time grabbing his backpack from the steps.

"I’m out of here. Have fun playing house or whatever weird best friend thing you two do."

"Where are you going?" I asked, frowning.

"Out." Jude shrugged, slinging the bag over his shoulder. 

"And don't tell dad."

Zion rolled his eyes. "Don’t trip over your ego on the way out, Jude."

Jude just shot him the middle finger before heading down the street.

As soon as he was gone, I turned to Zion with a smirk. 

"So… what kind of trouble are we getting into?"

His lips curled into that signature mischievous grin—the one that always meant chaos was coming. 

"Oh, Snowflake, you have no idea."

We ran through the house, arguing over what to do first. Zion wanted to sneak into the kitchen and steal some of the cupcakes the chefs were prepping for the party. I wanted to jump on the trampoline out back.

"Come on, Zion, they’ll notice if the cupcakes go missing!"

"Not if we eat the evidence."

I smacked his arm. "No."

He groaned. "Fine. Then let’s play hide and seek."

I narrowed my eyes. "You always win at that."

"Because I’m better at it." He grinned.

"Or because you cheat."

"I don’t cheat."

I folded my arms. "Then why do you always find me in less than five minutes?"

"Maybe because you hide in the same places every time?" He leaned closer, smirking. "Not my fault you’re predictable, Snowflake."

I scowled. "Fine. But if I win, you have to admit I’m better than you."

Zion chuckled. "Not gonna happen, but okay." He gestured toward the grand staircase. "Go hide. I’ll count to fifty."

I didn’t wait for him to start counting. I ran.

The game was on.